Oliver's Story - Part 1 of The Chamberlain Chronicles
by TellMeMore90
Summary: Oliver could hear thumping. It was rhythmic, like tribal drums. Dear god his head hurt and his tongue felt too big for his mouth. He wanted the thumping to stop – oh, it was in his head, his heart beating. What had he done last night? Oh, right, Gary and his damn pub crawl - The Golden Mile. If you've not seen the film, don't read this fic.


**I enjoyed The World's End, but I wanted to know what had happened to Oliver. And what happened if he survived?**

**Oh, and the female character is loosely based on Amanda Abbington.**

**I own nothing. All credit to Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright and all involved in making The World's End.**

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Oliver could hear thumping. It was rhythmic, like tribal drums. Dear god his head hurt and his tongue felt too big for his mouth. He wanted the thumping to stop – oh, it was in his head, his heart beating. What had he done last night? Oh, right, Gary and his damn pub crawl. This must be a hangover. Must have passed out again. He wondered which pub he'd made it to this time. He felt around with his hand – cotton sheets and a duvet. So he'd made it back to the hotel then. Wait, naked. He was naked. Someone had stripped his clothes. Must have been Andy or possibly Steve. Probably Andy as he wasn't drinking.

The memory of Andy downing five shots in rapid succession clawed its way into his consciousness. And ink, why blue ink? He lay still and hoped his memory would clear.

Slowly he tried to open his eyes. The room was dark, except for a small lamp glowing on the dressing table. Excellent. He didn't think he could cope with too much light yet. He raised his head slowly, but the pounding persuaded him that keeping it buried in the pillow would be wiser. He turned his head slowly to the left and saw a bedside table. Someone had left a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol. He stretched out his left hand and managed to snag the pill packet. He popped two into his hand and set the packet on the bed. Very slowly he eased himself up to reach the glass. The tablets were a struggle to swallow, but the cool water was wonderful, lubricating his mouth and throat.

He slumped back into the bed and pulled the duvet up to his chest, letting the pain killers work their magic.

He must have dozed off, as this time when he opened his eyes the room was lighter. Not daylight but a light outside in the corridor, filtering between the door and frame. He could see floral wallpaper and a dressing table that looked straight out of the 1930's. This wasn't his hotel room!

Where was he? And where were the lads? A feeling of panic and genuine fear caused his stomach to tie in knots.

He put his hand to his right ear, but his Bluetooth was gone. No use anyway as his mobile was in his jacket pocket and he had no idea where that was.

W T F had happened last night? How long had he been out?

He remembered the hotel, and Gary with that damn map of the Golden Mile. He remembered Sam joining them at The Old Familiar. He felt a spike of fear at the thought of his baby sister as he prayed she had got away. What? Why? Had she been in danger? No, she was going to meet the Twins.

Finally his bladder managed to make its persistent nagging known. He needed the toilet. Another shaft of fear and panic swept through him. But nature called and he wasn't going to wet the bed, so he had to find a bathroom.

He eased the duvet back and slowly sat up. Not too bad. He might even live. Slowly he swung his legs off the bed and onto the carpet.

Oh, slippers. And slung over the end of the bed a dressing gown. He slipped both on.

Looking round the room the décor was old, with a wardrobe and chest of drawers that matched the dressing table. Someone's bedroom then, not a hotel. Maybe he'd pulled? No, unlikely with this hangover.

There was only one door, so no en-suite. Something in bright yellow caught his eye even in the half light. Was that a post-it note stuck to the door? He opened the door, temporarily blinded by the bright light of the landing. Looking at the note he managed to focus enough to make out the words 'BATHROOM – TURN RIGHT, SECOND ON RIGHT. Then come downstairs for food'

Right, good. Yeah food would be good as Gary had dragged them out without eating first and he'd only had a sandwich at lunch-time.

He found the bathroom OK and, after answering nature's call, turned to wash his hands in the basin. Catching sight of himself in the mirror he had a sudden flashback of Mr Shephard looking over his shoulder. Again, he went cold, but shook it off. He hadn't thought about their old secondary school teacher in years. He must be in at least his 70's by now. But he didn't look a day older than when he'd taught them. W T F was going on? Probably the hangover messing with his brain.

As he washed his face he spotted an unopened toothbrush on the basin obviously put there for his use. Grabbing the tube of toothpaste he cleaned his teeth. Rinsing the brush under the tap he decided he definitely felt more human. Relief, a flood of relief. Why was that? What was his subconscious trying to tell him? He'd been hungover before and not had all these weird flashbacks and feelings of anxiety. Something had happened on the pub crawl, he just couldn't remember what. Probably something to do with Gary though, it always was.

Oliver went out onto the landing and managed to make it down the stairs without face planting.

The smell of bacon and sound of a radio guided him to the kitchen and the rear view of a woman cooking on an Aga. Brunette, quite shapely, dressed in wellies, jeans and an old baggy jumper, her hair tied back in a pony tail.

"Oh good, you're awake. I've done you hangover food. Are poached eggs OK? Toast is on the table and the bacon is nearly ready. Do you like tomatoes and mushrooms? Good. Butter what you want and I'll bring it all over in a minute. How do you take your tea?"

"White no sugar thanks." Oliver answered automatically.

He sat in the chair in front of the empty plate and reached for the toast and butter. Slowly he began buttering the first slice. He registered that it was dark outside but he'd lost all track of time.

"I'm Oliver Chamberlain."

The woman turned and looked at him. Was that a look of relief?

"I know."

"Have we met? I mean, do I know you or did we just, err, meet last night?"

"You mean tonight. You've only been out for an hour and a half. And yes we've met. I'm Mandy Abbeyfield although I doubt you'd remember me. I'd just started the second year when you were in the sixth form. I always liked your nose though – I thought it was cute."

Mandy turned away, embarrassed. "Eggs are done. How's your toast coming?"

Keeping her eyes down she brought over the veggies, bacon and eggs and placed them on his plate.

"Eat up, you'll need it."

She finished making the tea and brought two mugs to the table, placing one next to his plate as she sat in the chair opposite his.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've drunk way too much and my brain has been sucked out of my ears."

"Nearly right. It was out of your forehead."

Oliver stopped eating, mouth open and fork halfway to his lips as he looked up in shock at his breakfast, or was that supper companion.

"How much do you remember of tonight?"

Oliver spluttered. "If I did anything inappropriate I'm really sorry. I don't normally drink this much, but Gary insisted we do the Golden Mile, you know 12 pubs, 12 pints finishing at The World's End."

"No, it's OK. You didn't do anything. Quite the reverse I would think. Just tell me what you remember."

"Erm, we checked into the hotel. That would be Gary, Andy, Pete, Steve and me, obviously. We headed to The First Post, but it was really quiet and looked like it had been taken over by one of those chains. We all had a beer, except Andy who doesn't drink." Again, the flashback of Andy downing those shots one after the other.

"Then we went to the Old Familiar. My sister, Sam, joined us there. She was going to meet up with the Twins for a girl's night. Then the Famous Cock before we went to the Cross Hands and it kind of becomes a blank."

Oliver eyes snapped to Mandy's face. "Blanks. We had a fight with the Blanks, in the gents. There was this blue ink everywhere. And heads, so many smashed heads. We tried to be normal, but Andy drank all those shots and he hasn't drunk since the accident. And we couldn't tell who was a Blank and who wasn't. We wanted to leave, to get away, but Gary said we should keep on with the Golden Mile. That's what everyone was expecting. As we didn't know who to trust he said it was the safest thing to do. Oh my god, the Blanks. Sam!"

"This Gary sounds like a bit of an arse. You'd have probably got out alive if you left then. Wait Gary, not Gary King, the biggest dickhead in Newton Haven?"

"Yeah, that would be the one. Wait, what do you mean would have got out alive?"

"Right well, you're not actually dead but the Replacements or Blanks as you call them, think you are and by rights you should be. Every other poor bastard in Newton Haven is. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Um, drinking my pint and going to the loo at, I think it was The Two Headed Dog. Then it all gets a bit weird. I was washing my hands and I looked in the mirror and there was Mr Shephard looking exactly the same as when we left school, except he must be, what 70 by now. And then there were blue lights and pain and … that's it. Why did you say I should be dead like every other poor bastard in Newton Haven? Oh my god, are you one of them?"

"No I'm not. At least I'm one of the few who's not. They only kept me because I live so far out of town and I offered to help them, well serve them really. Look, I'll prove it."

With that Mandy pulled a knife from a drawer and ran it over the end of her finger. Red blood oozed out.

"OK?"

"OK."

Oliver took a long sip of his tea and contemplated his next question while Mandy sucked on her finger to stop the bleeding. For some reason Oliver's mouth went dry and he struggled to concentrate.

He took another gulp of tea. "So, how exactly do you serve them and why should I be um, dead?"

"When the alien's, because that's what they are, replace someone they need their DNA and their memories. First they take the DNA to build the replica body, then they suck all, and I mean all, of the person's memories out their brain by taking hold of their forehead. This must have been what happened to you in the loo."

"Great, sucked by my ex teacher in the gent's loo." Oliver smirked if only to feel better about the madness he was living through. He wasn't sure he was actually awake.

Mandy looked at him in surprise and then giggled. Oliver thought it was one of the nicest sounds he'd ever heard.

"Right, well, and promise me you won't get upset at this."

"What, more upset than having a stinking hangover, my brain sucked out and not being dead?"

"Yeah, OK. Well when they suck the memories out they take literally everything, and the body stops functioning. They call what's left a husk."

"When you say stops functioning, you mean, dead?"

"Yeah."

"And that should have happened to me?"

"Um yes. And as far as the aliens are aware, you are dead. That's why they called me."

"Why would they call you?"

"That's how I serve them. I collect the husks, err bodies, and take them to their processing plant."

"Processing?"

"Well yeah. They can't have dead bodies lying around and they can't have a funeral or bury them in the normal way, so they make use of them. They process them and turn them into compost."

"Wait. I'm supposed to be compost. And you help them with this? Unbelievable. How could you? You're assisting with … murder!"

"I know, but I had no choice. By the time I found out what was going on from Basil they'd already replaced the Town Councillors, the police and half of the teachers. It was help out or be replaced myself. The problem is, it isn't just here. There are towns and cities all over the world that they've converted in preparation for our acceptance into some sort of galactic alliance. The Earth is kind of being co-opted but without our knowledge. And these guys are here to sanitise the human race to make us acceptable to the rest of the galaxy."

"Why don't you tell someone? The authorities?"

"They're probably the first people they replaced. It's impossible to know who to trust. I don't even go into Newton Haven now unless I have to or if they summon me. I just stay out here on the farm and keep well away. I've managed to make myself virtually self-sufficient so I can keep away from them."

Mandy dropped her head into her hands.

"You have no idea what it's like. My friends, cousins, aunts and uncles that I didn't get a chance to warn, and my god the children! The bodies of those old people and children that I've had to put into that damn machine. Sometimes I wish they would replace me just so they could see my memories and know how they've tortured me! But I won't give in. As long as I'm alive they haven't won."

Oliver had watched the emotions tear through Mandy. He'd gone from flaming anger and wanting to call the police, to sadness for all his former classmates and neighbours who had now been replaced, to compassion for the poor woman who was surviving the only way she knew how in a world she could no longer trust.

"So how come I'm not ... you know, compost?"

"I think it must have been the beer. No-one here really drinks alcohol any more, I mean I don't think it effects the aliens so they don't bother with it. The only reason I think they've kept the pubs is for appearances in case of outsiders and something to do, and for the few remaining humans of course. I'm pretty sure they've never tried to replicate someone who was legless before. I mean, you said you were out of practice."

"Yeah, well I only made it to The Trusty Servant when I was eighteen, so I'm surprised I made it as far as I did this time. So what, you think I was saved by the beer?"

"Only thing I can think of. Somehow it must have mucked up the transfer process. I mean as far as they're concerned it must have worked, otherwise they would have noticed problems with the Replica, but instead of taking everything out of your brain, it seems to have only copied it."

"So what, there's a replica out there with all my memories. Oh my god, all those fantasies about Miss Wilson!"

"The history teacher?"

"Yeah." Oliver dropped his head into his hands as he blushed, rather beautifully Mandy thought.

"Good choice. Quite a few of the girls had a crush on her too."

Oliver looked up, startled. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Raging hormones with nowhere to go. What, you thought only teenage boys get the hots for anyone with sex appeal?"

"Yes, no, I mean. Oh."

"Anyway, your Replica is the one with your clothes, wallet and mobile phone. Oh and that doo-hickey you had in your ear." Mandy waved her hand in the general direction of her right ear.

"My Bluetooth." Oliver let out a sigh. He actually felt a little lost without that gadget. "So, how did I end up here?"

"They called me to collect your … husk, sorry, from The Two Headed Dog. I carried you out the back and put you in the back of my landy ready to take you for processing. No-one bothers to check now, you see. Every time they've done it the original dies, so there's no point. So they didn't notice you weren't …"

"A husk?"

"Yeah. It's just as well you let out a moan as I was pulling in to the plant otherwise you'd have been processed alive. Well, I went through the motions, made it look like I'd processed you, then stashed you on the back seat under a blanket and brought you back here. The rest you know."

"So you've seen me …"

"Naked. Yeah." It was Mandy's turn to turn pink, even as she tried to remain blasé and focus on drinking the remains of her tea. Damn, her mug was empty.

"More tea?"

"Please." Oliver was simultaneously embarrassed, and aroused. Not a good way to be in a wrap-around dressing gown. Thank god for the table. "Errm, and it was you who put me to bed?"

"Yes that would have been me, yes."

"And you think I had a cute nose, at school."

Mandy was wrong-footed and nearly dropped the mugs of tea. "Um, yeah, I do, umm, did actually."

Oliver sort of smiled as he wrapped his hands around his mug and stared at the wisps of steam from his tea. If he'd looked up at his hostess he'd have seen her with a similar expression.

That's when her phone pinged a text message with GPS coordinates. "Damn, I've got another one. I'm so sorry, but it's likely one of your friends. This one seems to be in the woods near the bowling club."

"It would be. That's where we used to hang out. Oh god, I wonder which one? And what about Sam? I have to call and warn her."

"Oliver I know you want to but you can't. You don't know who to trust. Look, you'd all worked out about the Blanks. Wouldn't one of your friends have made sure Sam got out?"

"Yeah Steve would. He wouldn't have let her stick around if there was danger. And Sam has her car with her. We all came by train."

"Look, I've got to go. Hopefully your friend is OK too, if we're right and it is the alcohol. If I don't go now they'll know something is wrong and send someone out here. And please don't use the phone. You'll get us both killed. You have no idea who else to trust and I'm pretty sure they've got all communications monitored, so please, trust me and don't use the phone."

"I'll try."

"Look, have a shower. There are fresh towels in the airing cupboard on the landing and if you look in the wardrobe in your room there are some overalls and shirts that should fit. I'm sorry but I've got no underwear for you, but, if you don't mind going commando tonight I'll try and get some tomorrow. They'll expect me to pick up your luggage from the hotel to dispose of it, so you should have your own clothes tomorrow."

Mandy grabbed her keys and headed to the front door. "And I mean it. No matter how hard it is, please do not use the phone." And she was gone.

Oliver had a shower. Mandy used a rather pleasant vanilla scented body wash and an apple scented shampoo. It reminded him of the apple pies his mum used to bake.

Thank god his parents were dead and hadn't seen this. They'd both been born and died in Newton Haven. It was the only town they knew. He couldn't bear the thought of them having their memories stolen and being made into compost. Although they had both been cremated, so it wasn't that different. But still, the memory stealing bit was not good.

He opened the wardrobe and found the overalls. They were a bit scratchy against his naked skin, but he could cope until tomorrow when hopefully his own luggage would arrive.

He really wanted to call Sam and make sure she was alright, or at least warn her, but he had heeded Mandy's words. He didn't want to put Mandy in danger after she had risked her life to save him. And at this point he didn't know if Sam was still, well, Sam. No, he'd not do anything to put them in danger. He really didn't want Mandy to be brain-sucked and replicated. He liked the original too much.

Oliver was a little shocked at the warmth that particular thought caused. He was no shrinking violet when it came to the ladies, but his success rate was not that high and so few of them appreciated that he had to be contactable all the time to pay for the lavish meals he took his dates on. He'd had a few longer term relationships, but they'd all failed after a few months. A couple said "It's not you, it's me. I'm just too demanding" whilst the others laid it all at his door. He was too insensitive, too obsessed with the housing market and not obsessed enough with them.

If he was honest with himself, he had become overly attached to that Bluetooth earpiece, wearing it like some kind of extra limb. He put it on first thing in the morning and took it off last thing at night. And now it was being worn by a genetically perfect replica of him who was dragging his friends on a pub crawl round Newton Haven. Genetically perfect – hah. Oliver gloated at the thought that his replica would have his birthmark back. That damn O on his temple.

Oh.

Gary was sure to notice it if he wasn't too drunk. He'd been the one to christen him O-Man because of that damn birthmark. And if Gary noticed it was back, after Oliver had made such a point of showing them it had been removed, then they would know that he had been replaced.

Sam might think he was dead! That was probably why they'd gone to the bowling club, to escape Replica Oliver. But his replica would know all about the bowling club and would have no doubt followed them there. Oh God, was he responsible for the body in the woods, whichever of his friends it was. Or perhaps it was Sam.

Oliver took a deep breath to calm his rising panic.

No, if anyone was responsible it was these damn aliens.

But what about Mandy? She had betrayed them. If he called Sam to check she was OK and to let her know he was alive, it would put Mandy in danger and she'd be replaced and composted. He couldn't do that.

What if they already knew and the call was a trap to lure Mandy into being replaced? If it was he was done for any way because they'd know immediately he was alive and here at her farm.

He went to the phone on the kitchen wall to call Mandy to warn her, but realised he didn't know her number. He thought again about calling Sam, but then realised he didn't know her number either. All the numbers were stored on his mobile with Replica Oliver, not in his own memory. He was stuck.

He hoped that it would be Original Mandy and not Replica Mandy who returned to the farm. But how could he tell without injuring her? They'd know she'd cut her finger to show him her blood.

Oh, the cut. She'd have a fresh cut on her left index finger tip. That wouldn't be replicated at DNA level. Not unless they actually cut Replica Mandy's finger to fool him. He slumped down at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands, not seeing any way out of this mess.

His breathing calmed somewhat as the waft of vanilla body wash came off his hands.

Of course.

Oliver scoured the kitchen for suitable weapons. He put a large carving knife, a kitchen cleaver and a claw hammer he'd found under the sink into various pockets in his overalls. He wanted to be prepared if he had to fight his way out. He also made sure that the back door was unlocked and put a sack of tinned food, a thermos of water, an extra knife and a torch just outside the door. He found a pair of old boots that weren't too large in a cupboard by the back door. A quick rummage in his bedroom produced an overcoat, a shirt, a jumper and a couple of pairs of thick socks. He put on the shirt and one pair of socks, putting the rest with the sack. He pulled on the boots and laced them tight to stop them slipping.

He then made another cup of tea and sat down to await the return of Mandy and hopefully one of his friends.

At twenty five past ten, by the kitchen clock, Oliver saw headlights swinging towards the farmhouse. Only one set, but that didn't mean anything. He looked up as Mandy walked into the kitchen, sullen faced. She took off her coat, hanging it on a hook on the back of the door. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Well?"

"I'm so sorry. It was a husk. Not your sister." She'd caught the straightening of his shoulders and look of fear on his face. He relaxed only slightly when he heard it was not Sam.

"Who?"

"A small man with curly hair."

"Pete."

"I'm really so sorry."

Oliver stood and moved to Mandy's side. He took her hands in his. "I'm sorry too, but I need to be sure."

She looked at him in confusion as he first of all looked at the recent wound on her left index finger. Next he moved forward and nuzzled her neck – vanilla. Finally he nuzzled her hair – apple.

Mandy looked bewildered as her breathing came in short pants and her pupils dilated.

Oliver stepped back and registered the affect he'd had even as he said "I'm sorry, but I needed to know you are still you."

Mandy looked a little crestfallen, casting her eyes away and to the floor. "I understand."

Oliver walked to the back door, retrieving his supplies then locking and bolting it. Before he sat down he removed the weapons from his overalls. Then he shrugged. "Couldn't be too careful."

"Did you call anyone?"

"No, I couldn't remember any numbers anyway. They're all in my phone."

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"So am I. He had a wife and two kids. I suppose we can't even tell her. We'll have to leave that to Andy and Steve if they get out alive. Gary won't even think to let her know."

"Poor kids."

"Yeah, poor kids. He never even told me their names. We hadn't spoken in years you see, not until Gary got us all back together for this evening. I suppose we should at least be grateful to the git for that."

He looked up and realised that Mandy had her head buried in her crossed arms as they rested on the kitchen table. Her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed.

Oliver stood up, walking round the table and standing beside his saviour. He crouched down and began to rub Mandy's back in an attempt to comfort her.

"It's OK. You did what you could. Don't cry. It's not your fault, it's really not. Please don't cry love, please don't cry."

She stopped crying and raised red-rimmed eyes to his, a look of confusion on her face. Then she turned flinging her arms around his neck and burying her head in his shoulder.

Oliver nearly fell over in surprise, but managed to retain his balance as he wrapped his arms around her and again stroked her back. The combined smells of vanilla and apple were intoxicating and his lack of underwear was rapidly becoming a nuisance.

"Come on love. Calm down. Have you got any tissues?"

He managed to translate 'living room' from the muffled noise coming from his shoulder.

"How about we move in there. Have you got a sofa where we can be more comfortable?"

He was pretty sure that was a 'yes', so he eased Mandy to a standing position and lead her to the living room (the door on the other side of the hall from the kitchen, so a fairly safe bet). He managed to manoeuvre them to the sofa, never once letting go of his precious armful.

As he sat on the sofa, calming and soothing, he wondered if it was possible to fall in love this quickly. He knew what they'd been through in just a few hours was traumatic and extreme, but even so. He'd never really felt like this before. This didn't feel like a crush or infatuation, and despite his physical response earlier, it didn't feel like lust, well, not just lust.

Trying to change the subject he suddenly said "I wonder what was different about me?"

Mandy raised her head to look at him for the first time since the kitchen. "What do you mean?"

"Well Pete had more to drink than me. He must have done, he'd gone to more pubs than me. And he's, he was smaller than me. So he should have been even more drunk. So why me and not him?"

"I don't know. Is there anything different about you?"

"I don't think so. I'm totally normal."

"No childhood head trauma? You haven't got a metal plate in your head or anything?" A wan smile. Oliver liked that smile, faint though it was.

"No nothing like that. Damn, if only I had my phone I could search Google for some clue."

Mandy looked up, a look of realisation on her face. "Your phone. That Bluetooth headset. Were you wearing it in the gents?"

"Of course, I always wear it. Ohhh, you mean it may have been that that interfered with the transfer."

"Don't know but it's a good bet. The beer may have had something to do with it, but the only difference between you and your friend was that headset. I can't recall seeing anyone in Newton Haven wearing one, so it's very possible."

"Damn. My ex-girlfriends said I clung on to it like my life depended on it, usually before they walked out on me."

"Your life did depend on it. I'm very glad you kept it on."

Oliver looked down at the bundle of slightly moist eyed female still wrapped in his arms, and realised that she still had her arms wrapped around him too.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Not much we can do now except go to bed. We'll sort out a plan in the morning."

"When you say go to bed do you mean …?"

"Yeah if that's OK. We don't have to do anything but, after today, I'd quite like a cuddle."

"Me too, if you're OK with that?"

Before the conversation could get any more awkward there was a massive flash, followed seconds later by the sound of a huge explosion. Oliver and Mandy ran to the window to see what was happening.

"It's Newton Haven!"

"Quick, away from the windows."

Oliver dragged them away from the window and behind a well stuffed arm chair. He pulled Mandy close to his chest and ducked his own head over hers even as the blast wave reached them. The windows rattled dramatically but did not break.

As abruptly as it started, the roar stopped.

Helping Mandy to her feet they made their way outside and looked in the direction of Newton Haven. There was nothing. Not even the glow in the sky from the light pollution of a small town, just blackness.

They hugged each other as they stared into the dark, even as the stars became visible in the night's sky.

"I've never seen so many stars before. Not here anyway. I've not seen that many stars even during a power cut."

"It's gone isn't it."

"Looks like it." Mandy shivered and turned back towards the house. "Oh, the lights have all gone out."

Oliver turned. "Oh yeah. We'd better check the radio in case there is some sort of emergency broadcast."

Mandy turned on the radio but got nothing but static. "We'll try again in the morning. I don't want to run down the batteries."

Oliver retrieved the torch, one of those wind up ones, and joined Mandy back outside.

"Isn't that the Milky Way? It's beautiful."

"Yes it is." As Mandy turned to look at him, Oliver leant forward and kissed her.

"Thank you for saving me."

"I had to. It's a very cute nose."


End file.
